


The Red Mailbox

by lotusk



Series: Paralians [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Chankai in love with the sea and each other, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Romance, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, chankai with a dog, sappy beginning sappy ending sappy everything orz, this is just chankai being monumentally gross I am so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/pseuds/lotusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol writes letters to Jongin every day, but today's letter is extra special because Jongin finds it in the magical red mailbox that started it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Mailbox

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [The Sea-Dwellers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4800266)

paralian  
(n.) one who lives by the sea

 

**_Tranquility Beach, June 2nd, 2017_ **

 

 _It could have been a lot worse looking_ , Jongin supposed.

Lips forming a half-smile, Jongin’s fingers caressed the edges of the origami owl that lay in the palm of his hand. When had he even found time to fold this? Chanyeol was gifted with words but his hands struggled to make things pretty. Certain parts of the owl were wrinkled with networks of fine lines, like he'd folded and re-folded the paper in his quest to make the owl look pretty for Jongin. Could this be a paper incarnation of the glass wishing owl he'd made for Chanyeol back all that while ago? Back when they were pen-pals falling in love, back when they had no idea what the other looked like?

Staring at the lopsided owl, Jongin wandered if Chanyeol had given it a name because that was just the kind of cheesy thing Chanyeol would do. _Did he call you Carrick when he was making you?_

The edges of the owl were soft from all the handling, and Jongin was reluctant to take the thing apart. But at the same time, he knew he'd have to dismantle it in order to get to the words within. And there were _always_ words within when they left paper somethings for each other.

Carefully, Jongin undid the wings and other parts. The paper rustled as his fingers worked--his heartbeat soft and quick in his chest. They'd been sharing _Il Mare_ , the house by the sea, for more than six months now, but Jongin’s chest still trembled and leapt just a little bit when he found letters from Chanyeol. Sometimes short and sometimes long, Chanyeol wrote them on post-it notes, notepad sheets, delicate Japanese petal-pressed rice-paper, table napkins and even origami projects. Jongin never knew what he'd get.

He also never knew _where_ he'd get them as Chanyeol left them all over the place--like treasures waiting to be found. Jongin sometimes found them on his work table, stuck on the fridge door, tucked under his coffee cup, on his bedside table, and there was the time Chanyeol had left an envelope leaning against the butter dish in the refrigerator. Jongin always left his reply in the same place he’d found the letter. It was a game they played daily and didn’t seem to be tiring of. 

Although they'd begun exchanging letters via the vintage red mailbox outside their seaside home, it was mostly just a receptacle for junk mail now, except when they received the occasional parcel from family, or from Sehun and Yixing in the city. Gone were the days when Chanyeol and Jongin had left letters there for each other, so it had been a complete surprise that morning, when Jongin had lifted the heavy red door to find the indigo owl staring up at him--the letter _J._ written on its chest in stark black ink. It made Jongin ridiculously happy that Chanyeol had chosen indigo paper. 

_Indigo_. Jongin's favourite color. 

He’d been so tempted to just rip the owl open and read what was inside, but he managed to stop himself. With shaky hands, he'd walked across the raised wooden walkway that led back to the house of glass and timber that was _Il Mare_. The waves lapped against the wooden pillars, making gentle sucking noises and lacing the sea air with the scent of salt. There were seagull cries in the distance but Jongin barely registered them because his heartbeat was so loud in his ears. 

Twelve months. It had been twelve months since he'd last a found a letter from Chanyeol in the red mailbox--eleven months since he'd found him again. Jongin didn’t like to think about the month in between where he thought he'd lost Chanyeol for good.

Why had he decided to use the red mailbox? What was he up to? He'd left the house half an hour earlier so Jongin couldn't even pester him about it. He dumped the rest of the mail on the coffee table, unexamined, before heading for his favorite part of the house, the owl cradled carefully in his palms like it was some delicate flower instead of a slightly misshapen bird.

✵✵✵

There was a large bay window in Chanyeol's study, one which allowed natural light to pour into the room through tall, glass panels. Three months earlier, they'd picked out sofa the same shade as the turquoise swirls in the glass paper weight Jongin had made for Chanyeol in the early days of their correspondence, back when they were still getting to know each other and falling more in love with each letter they exchanged.

Chanyeol had hired some builders to build an annexe to the main house, a dedicated studio where Jongin could use his glassblowing tools any time he wanted. But when Jongin wasn’t working with fire and glass, he liked to spend time in Chanyeol’s study. He often sat there as Chanyeol wrote about boys falling in love on his desktop. Sometimes he read and sometimes he worked on sketches for his blown glass pieces, with the sketchpad in hand and his laptop on the unoccupied seat so he could dip into the Internet for ideas when he needed. In the background, the sound of keys clicking in a steady stream with pauses in between. 

At some point there would be a small groan as Chanyeol stretched, working the stiffness out of his shoulders and arms and back. Then would come the sounds of bare feet padding across the timber flooring before Chanyeol moved Jongin's laptop to the nearby coffee table, and settled his limbs onto the cosy sofa.

"So tired, Jongin," he'd say as he rested his head on Jongin's lap. And Jongin would stroke his hair as he made some finishing touches on a sketch or, if he was reading, finish reading whichever sentence he was in the middle of, before putting his book away. 

His hand cupping Chanyeol's cheek, he'd ask how things were and they'd talk a little or not at all. But whatever they did, they always ended up in each other's arms, sitting on the couch with Chanyeol's arms over Jongin’s ribs and hands linked over his tummy as they stared out the window at the turquoise ocean water and blue sky. Sometimes they'd nap and sometimes they wouldn't--falling into teasing kisses and wandering hands and whispered words of love. There was nothing quite as beautiful as Chanyeol's bare shoulders raised over him, eyes shut in ecstasy and Jongin's name on his lips as pale sunlight formed a halo around his face.

But today it was just Jongin sitting on the couch by the bay window with the letter from Chanyeol in his hands. Holding his breath, he unfolded the last flap and opened the owl up. The paper was indigo on one side and off-white on the other and there was nothing written on it other than a couple of words printed in Chanyeol's squiggly handwriting: _Look outside_.

"What the hell?" Of course, Chanyeol had known Jongin would open up the owl at the bay window. Grinning, Jongin peeked through the glass and saw a tall figure in the distance, sitting on the wooden bench they'd placed at the halfway point of the winding pier that connected _Il Mare_ to Tranquility Beach. 

Some evenings, when they had time, or when they were in the mood for it, Jongin and Chanyeol would pack some food and a thermos flask of coffee (if you could even call it that since the jetty was basically their front yard) for themselves and head out to the bench for some simple _al fresco_ dining. They always brought food for Cola too so their affectionate Dandie Dimont terrier could eat his meal beside the water too.

Hands entwined, Jongin's head resting on Chanyeol's bony shoulder, they'd talk a little or not at all as the sun sank and disappeared beyond the horizon--sky and sea aflame. It was a quiet and uneventful existence they led in their house by the sea and Jongin cherished it more than he could explain. The isolation wasn't for everyone but it was just enough for Chanyeol and him. 

Sliding the window open, Jongin stuck his head out and shouted, the sea breeze carrying his words along, "PARK CHANYEOL! WHAT MISCHIEF HAVE YOU PLANNED?"

"COME OUTSIDE, KIM JONGIN!" Jongin could almost see Chanyeol's dimpled grin as he waved to Jongin. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, which was unusual. He usually wore them all day. For a melancholic second, Jongin recalled the first time they'd met. Chanyeol hadn’t worn glasses then too, and he’d looked so wistful as he stood by the window with the glass wishing owl in his hand. He never wanted to see that expression on Chanyeol’s face again. _Ever_.

✵✵✵

"Why am I here?" Jongin asked, chuckling, as he stopped in front of Chanyeol.

"No spoilers," Chanyeol shook his head before sneaking his arms around Jongin's waist and pulling him into a hug. "You took the _longest_ time to check the mail. I thought I was going die out here, waiting all day."

Chanyeol's thumbs were cool as they slid along his jaw but his lips were warm and firm and inviting as they pressed against Jongin's--tender and tentative. Jongin wrapped his arms around him, making contented noises as Chanyeol deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into his mouth.

"Not even one clue?" Jongin whispered as he nuzzled Chanyeol's neck and felt the other man shiver in response. Chanyeol and faded cologne were high on the list of Jongin's favorite things. 

"Not a one." Chanyeol kissed his forehead before placing his hands on his shoulders and turning him around. And that was when Jongin finally noticed it: the trail of seashells spanning the length of the jetty from the bench to the start of the jetty. "Follow the trail," Chanyeol nudged him forward. Close beside him, Cola was running back and forth, barking excitedly; the little dog could sense something was up.

His heart a drum in his chest, Jongin took step after nervous step, his left hand anchored in Chanyeol's. The breeze was mild today--ruffling their hair instead of whipping it into wild tangles like it sometimes could. 

Jongin couldn't help smiling at the seashells, all pale and pretty, as they lay in a line across the wooden planking. There had to be at least a hundred seashells laid out at one-foot intervals. Squatting, he picked up a peach-colored one. It had been scrubbed clean, the ridges rough beneath his fingertips and no grains of sand to be found on the surface at all. 

"How long did it take you? You shouldn’t have, Yeol," Jongin's voice was a mixture of awe for the effort and regret for how much work it must have been for Chanyeol. There were so many seashells. It must have taken him days!

"I'll never tell. Now stop asking me questions and just follow the damned breadcrumbs,” Chanyeol ordered as he took Jongin’s hand and pulled him up into standing position. Up ahead, Cola was sniffing at a seashell, and it took all of one second before he was flinching and drawing back--his furry face all scrunched up. If dogs made faces, Cola was certainly making one.

“You can’t eat that, boy,” Chanyeol called out to the dog, shaking his head in disbelief. Unimpressed, Cola barked at him before bounding away.

“He doesn’t seem to think very much of your breadcrumbs,” Jongin laughed.

"I don't care what Cola thinks about them," Chanyeol snorted. "All I care about is what _you_ think."

"It's. . ." Jongin began before leaving the sentence unfinished. 

"Yes?" Chanyeol sounded almost anxious. It was endearing.

"Like a scene from a romcom or something."

"You hate it, don't you? I knew it was too over-the-top. I should just have kept things simple and taken you for dinner instead." Chanyeol groaned.

"Dinner? Why dinner? Did I forget some important date? Is it our anniversary? But it can't be. Wait, is it your birthday? Did I miss your birthday? But it's only April now--" Jongin's insides were buzzing with suppressed excitement, curiosity, anticipation, and just. . .all kinds of emotions.

"No more questions, Jongin. Stop freaking out and just follow the shells." Patiently but firmly, Chanyeol guided Jongin along the private pier.

"You know I can see where the trail ends right? This jetty isn't that long, Park Chanyeol," Jongin insisted, squinting at him.

"Can you just--look, just pretend you have no idea where the seashells are taking you, okay? Where's your sense of romance, Jonginnie? Just keep walking!" Chanyeol made a frustrated noise, which was about as angry as Chanyeol ever got with Jongin. Neither one of them had much of a temper so they were really just about as calm and boring as a couple could get. And gross. They were too gross for words, to be perfectly honest. 

_Too gross and just right for each other,_ a little voice whispered in Jongin’s head.

“Fine, I’ll play along and act like I have no idea where we’re going.” Jongin’s voice was tinged with amusement as he kissed Chanyeol’s hand, still interlocked with his. “But. . .I just want to say thank you, Yeol. For all this. Thank you for the seashells, for the owl, for choosing my favorite color, for wanting to surprise me, and for being as romantic as the characters in your novels. Wow. That is the sappiest thing I've ever said and can we just pretend I never said it? Like just pretend I wrote it in a letter instead.” Jongin buried his face in Chanyeol’s chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“Don't want to. Hearing you say the words was so much better.” There was only the slightest hint of a teasing note in Chanyeol’s words as he tightened his arms around Jongin. “Keep walking,” Chanyeol said finally as his arms dropped at his aides and he tugged Jongin along by the hand.

One hundred and seventeen steps later, they came to a halt as they reached the final seashell. The scarlet, wrought-iron door stared back at them and the drum was back in Jongin’s chest--his heart so restless that Chanyeol’s arms were probably the only thing keeping it in place.

“Here we are.” His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, breath tickling the nape of Jongin’s neck.

“Here we are,” Jongin repeated as his hands curled around Chanyeol’s.

“Open it,” Chanyeol urged, but there was an edge of nervousness to his voice.

“I’m scared to--”

“Do you want me to open it for you?”

“Yes.” Jongin closed his eyes. He could hear nothing but Chanyeol’s breathing and the creaking of the antique hinges. No seagull shrieks, no ship horn. Just Chanyeol.

“You can open your eyes now.” Chanyeol’s chuckle was a deep rumble against his back.

“Who says they were closed?” Jongin said indignantly as he tried to delay retrieving whatever it was Chanyeol had left inside the red mailbox.

“You _always_ close your eyes when you’re nervous or excited or scared,” Chanyeol said as he turned Jongin around so they were nose to nose. “It’s one of the things I love best about you, Kim Jongin.” 

“I’m such a _child_ ,” Jongin declared in self-reproach.

“Nah, you just haven’t forgotten what it's like to be one. I wouldn’t want you to change for anything.” Chanyeol’s lips tasted like salt and summer and Jongin couldn’t get enough as he reached up, his tongue hungrily exploring Chanyeol’s mouth. He moaned as warm hands pressed firmly against his back, sliding across the skin.

Jongin’s right hand snuck beneath soft white cotton, coming to rest between Chanyeol’s chest and his tummy. He liked how his belly wasn’t completely hard, that it was just a little bit soft. “Chanyeol, let’s just--” 

“Later, Jongin. Just stick your hand in the mailbox. Come on, I worked really hard to set this up. There’s nothing bad waiting in there, I promise.”

Sighing in resignation, Jongin turned to confront the red mailbox. As Chanyeol’s arms settled around his waist, lips at his ear, Jongin bent forward and looked inside its cavernous depths.

A tiny box sat right in the back, drenched in shadow. Heart in his throat, Jongin closed his eyes and scooped it up. Brocade. It felt like brocade beneath his fingertips. Not wanting to drag out the suspense anymore, Jongin flipped the box open and inside were two simple [bands](https://www.etsy.com/listing/127908529/mens-rose-gold-wedding-band-5mm-brushed?ref=market%0A) in matte rose gold.

"Chanyeol," was all Jongin could manage in a quavery voice.

"Is that a yes?"

"I'm not sure what the question is." His chest ached and it was all Chanyeol's fault.

Slowly, Chanyeol turned Jongin around so their eyes met. "Will you marry me, Jongin?" he asked as he reached for one of the rings. "So we can be paralians together for always?"

When Chanyeol was younger, when they were in high school together and even way into their twenties, his best friend Yixing used to say that Chanyeol's tear ducts were faulty. He almost never cried, but after the accident, all he'd been left with was bits and pieces of memory and two years of longing. In that twenty-four month period, Chanyeol cried more than he had in his entire lifetime or so his noonas claimed as they clucked and fretted. His eyes had dried up almost completely after Jongin had found him. But today, in this moment, as Chanyeol held Jongin's hand in his and asked him if he would share his life with him, Chanyeol’s tears began to fall again. 

“Yeol, I--” Words didn’t come easily to Jongin at the best of times, and he was so overwhelmed by everything now that the words escaped him entirely. Finally, he stopped trying to find the words and just clung to Chanyeol, his face buried in his chest, tears turning the fabric damp. 

“Is it too soon? We can pretend this didn’t happen and I’ll ask you later. I’ll give you all the time you need, Jongin. Just, just don’t say no. Please?” Chanyeol was trying his best to keep the disappointment out of his voice, and someone else might have been fooled by his brave face, but not Jongin. 

“Can I say yes instead? Can I say yes to your question?” Jongin uttered the words softly, his palms cradling Chanyeol’s jaw. “Can I ask you a question of my own? Will you marry me, Park Chanyeol?”

“My answer was yes the moment I held your wishing owl in my hands. I love you Jongin, I always will,” Chanyeol said as he slipped a rose gold band on Jongin’s ring finger with hands that shook. By the time he was done putting on the ring, Chanyeol’s cheek was wet with fresh tears. 

Smiling, Jongin kissed his tears away before reaching for the remaining band and slipping on Chanyeol’s ring. “I love you too, Chanyeol. Paralians together,” Jongin said as he linked hands with him. “Always.”

“Always,” Chanyeol said as his arms reached around Jongin, pulling him close. Jongin’s eyes shut as their mouths met, and there was nothing but the sound of Chanyeol breathing and the whispering of the waves as they kissed the shore. 

Just Jongin and Chanyeol and the sea. They were right where they belonged. 

 

P/S: Well, this was another drabble that got a little out of control and I blame chankai for everything smh. 

For those of you who have read the earlier fic, you probably won't remember the significance of June 2nd, but was the date Jongin and Chanyeol were supposed to meet for their "second date". Just Chanyeol trying to make a new memory iykwim...

If who haven't read the first story and want to know how Chanyeol and Jongin fell in love, please check out [The Sea-Dwellers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3233885). Comments and kudos are loved and thank you for reading!


End file.
